Cowboy Lost
by arcadie
Summary: [one-shot] There is more to Dwayne than his vapid demeanor. His cowboy facade masks self-loathing, loneliness, and a secret. This is his journey from isolation to happiness and belonging. Sometimes it only takes one friend to make all the difference.


_Author's Notes_: There will be slash in this story (a warning for those of you who may not like that) but, in my opinion, what really drives the story is a friendship, so don't write it out if slash isn't your thing.  Also, some may argue that Dwayne is being out of character in this story but I disagree.  I really do think he's got a serious side but he's misinterpreted and overlooked in fandom _and_ the movies.  Anyway, here's my take on him, enjoy the story-     

Sometimes it's frustrating that people don't seem to know who I am.  Other times, I'm grateful.  But mostly it's frustrating.  They pegged me down right away as a Texas cowboy with a brain only occupied with thoughts of hamburgers, line dancing, puck handling, and rodeo roping.  To their defense, I guess I didn't give them much of a reason to think differently.  Sometimes though, especially when Russ cracks a joke that I'm not supposed to understand, I wish they saw me as someone else.  I'm not goofy, I'm serious; they just don't notice it when I am.  They explode my roping out of proportion.  I'm not a Texan republican or sexist despite my tendency to treat girls with immense respect.  Who knew being nice would turn into accusations of being sexist?  I pull out chairs for Connie and Julie and they punch me in the arm and tell me to treat them like the other guys.  I don't mean to; I just fell into the habit.  My mom's really weak and has been sick since I could remember so I have to baby her a lot.  I guess the habit overflows to other girls too.

            My favorite place in the world is the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Van Gough prints do the originals injustice.  The texture and the drama of the paint is something that has to be experienced first hand.  I love to stare at his paintings, trying to memorize each groove and swirl of the thick, smeary paint.  But the Ducks don't know that.

            They also don't know that my favorite book is _Atlas Shrugged_, not _Fox in Socks_, and that my favorite movie is _Dr. Strangelove_, not _Dogma_.  It doesn't seem to matter that I'm in all of the advanced placement classes along side Adam, Kenny, and Julie.  All they can see is the cowboy hat and the goofy smile that's my default expression, and all they can hear is the deep southern twang in my voice that I tried so hard at first to disguise.

            And I guess they don't know that I'm gay.  When they saw me trailing around Connie and Guy, they assumed that I was trying to vie for Connie's attention.  I thought so too at first but I guess it wasn't Connie that I liked.  Although I stopped liking Guy after maybe a week, I barely knew him and he showed no interest in getting to know me, it stayed with me.  So I guess at times like that, I'm grateful that they don't really know who I am.  But sometimes it's still frustrating, especially when I see _him_ skate almost effortlessly, his mind obviously somewhere else.  Or when I watch him, always seated behind him, twirling his pencil between his fingers in the way that I never could figure out during class.  Or when his sandy hair gets too long so he has to push it back with a frustrated sound.  He's serious too.  I know he's read _Atlas Shrugged_ and seen the movie too.  I also know he didn't laugh almost at all the second time the Ducks watched _Dogma _together.

            So sometimes, I wish that he knew.  I wonder what he would say.  He'd be too polite to curse or yell at me for being abnormal.  But I wouldn't think that he's like me.  So with this frustrated and confused mindset I begin each day, each battle-like day; I feel like an empty hole.  It's a struggle to wake up in the morning, thinking maybe it would be have been better to stay asleep forever.  But I get up nonetheless and drag myself to class and take my regular seat, behind Adam Banks.

…………………………………

I'm almost always the first one in class, eight-thirty, American history.  I sit down, third row, second seat from the windows, and pull out my notebook and a worn copy of _Flowers for Algernon_.  I almost begin to read when I see that Ms. Young, the teacher, is watching me through her glasses.

            "Doesn't teenage boys usually need all the sleep they can get?"  I shrug.

"I guess I'm not like them other boys."  I don't like talking to adults that much; I get uncomfortable with those long, awkward pauses.  I don't like the look on her face but I interpret it nonetheless.  It's one of pity.  She knows I really don't have any place better to be, even in bed.  I really don't have many friends.

I settle down into the book and a good ten minutes pass without interruption.  Then the door opens and before I even look up, I already know who it is.  Adam says hello to Ms. Young and takes his seat in front of mine.  Ken sits next to me, and Julie next to Adam.

            "Hi," he says.  I put down my dilapidated book. 

            "Howdy."  I nearly wince at how dumb that sounds.  Sometimes I wonder why I keep up the Texas cowboy act when I hate it so much.  Masochistic tendencies?  Adam is the only one out of the Ducks who always make an effort to talk to me, even to just say hello, besides Charlie who I think feels an obligation to since he's our captain.  

            "Good book," he remarks.  Of course he knows the book.  Up close I can see that his hair is still wet from the showers, falling into his eyes.  He must have been up even earlier than me, skating.  It's no secret to me that he wakes up, sometimes before dawn, to practice when the rink is nice and empty.

            "Don't it get lonely always skating alone?" I ask.  He blinks a couple times.  I like how Adam takes everything so seriously, making sure to contemplate the answer before opening his mouth.

            "Sometimes," he finally says.  "But sometimes I have company."  He looks away but not before I can see the blush starting to creep up the side of his face.  I wonder what that's supposed to mean but I can already feel the bottom of my stomach dropping.  We settle into familiar silence, Adam always writing in a worn notebook and me reading.  A few minutes before class begins, the majority of the students file in, eyes half closed and groaning. 

            "Hey guys."  Adam and I both look up to see Julie sliding into the seat beside Adam.  Her hair is wet from the shower also and my stomach drops even further.

            "Where's Kenny?" she asks.  She pulls out her perfect notebook and flips through pages of notes all in her neat cursive.  I look down at my own messy scrawls and wonder if Adam would like me better if I was clean and neat like her.  I feel better when I see that Adam's notes are as messy as mine. 

            "I don't know, haven't seen him all morning," Adam says.  Julie nods and we watch Kenny scoot through the door just as the bell's ringing, smiling charmingly at Ms Young as he sits down.  Of course he gets away with it; the teachers fawn over him, him and Adam and Julie.  They usually forget the oafish boy with gangly limbs and the slow drawl.

            I know I'm starting to wallow in self-pity and bitterness so I have to force myself to concentrate on taking immaculate notes.  Finally, the bell rings and Adam is out the door as soon as possible.  I know it's because he has math on the other side of campus so he needs all the time he can to get to class on time.

            So Julie and I walk out of class together.  Our schedules are almost identical except that she plays flute so she's in music fifth period while I'm in art. 

            " How's the ice?" I ask Julie, trying to keep casual as I hold the door open for her.  She looks back at me confused.

            "What?"  I point to her hair.

            "Weren't you skating this morning?"  She frowns.

            "No, was I supposed to?  I took a jog around campus."  I let the door swing shut behind me and smile slightly as we walk to chemistry.

…………………………………

            "What's the matter Dwayne, trying to formulate a thought that doesn't involve Texas or hockey?" Averman cracks as he puts down his lunch tray with a clatter and sits down next to me.

            "Nope, just wonderin' where my cowboy boots went," I say, but he misses the sarcasm.  Even in this table full of Ducks I feel alone.  Everyone's settled into their cliques, for the lack of a better word, and is deep in their own conversations.  Occasionally I'm allowed in the conversation as a dummy I guess, something to laugh at.  I start to wish that it were Adam sitting next to me when a brown paper bag is set down in front of me and Adam sits down in the seat across from me.

            "Hey Dwayne."  I manage to smile, but Averman's comment is still stinging me.  Charlie sits down next to Adam.  He's like energy, bright and warm and all encompassing.  He's like fire next to Adam's calm, collected attitude.  They're still best friends, even after the JV/Varsity riff.  I watch Charlie lean in close and say something to Adam, making him chuckle.  I wish that I were the curly, dark-haired boy with all my heart.  He's the only one that can make Adam smile and laugh easily. 

            "So how about that math test," Adam says, and it takes me a minute to realize that the low, intimate voice is directed at me.  It's like a tacky romance novel and everything else around me melts away until it's just Adam and me left on the earth.

            "Oh, it was alright," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.  Adam shrugs and drinks some water.

            "I think I did okay too," he says, nodding.  "But man, I was nervous.  That was worth thirty percent of our grade."

            "Well, we'll know how screwed we are tomorrow," I say, off-handedly.  I'm not good with words of comfort.  I'm only good as the butt of jokes.  But to my eternal amazement, I hear that soft laugh.  I smile triumphantly; I can make Adam laugh too.  But the elation is short-lived.  A moment later, Charlie leans over to whisper in Adam's ear again and he nods and they both get up.

            "We'll see you guys later," Charlie says, nodding at everyone.  There's a chorus of "see you guys later" and "let's hang out tonight" and the duo are gone.  I watch them leave through the double doors of the cafeteria.  With Adam gone, I suddenly lose interest in being there.  I get up and silently leave; no one notices my leaving.  As I walk, I wonder what the two even have to talk about.  They're pretty different.  I walk around outside, blowing a stream of air above my head, watching the whiteness melt into the gray skies, feeling crummy and empty.  

            Finally, I drag my feet back to the dorms.  There's something posted on the doors.  I look closer, curious.  It's the new dorm room arrangements for the next semester.  I trace my finger down the paper, locating my name, _Dwayne Robertson_.  There, next to my name in unmistakable black print, stark against the white paper, reads _Adam Banks_.

…………………………………

            I'm pulling an all-nighter at the library, sprawled across a soft, squishy sofa, trying to write a paper.  The sky outside has turned impossibly dark, an inky black that comforts me.  I like the library at night. It's close to empty during the day and it holds even less people at night.  It's like I have the whole library to myself and for some reason it's exciting to walk around barefoot in a place that's not your own house.  I stare at the blank notebook in front of me, trying to figure out how to start the paper.  It's the term's research paper so I have to do well.

            "Mind if I join you?"  I look up, startled to see that it's Adam.  I move over to make room and he pulls out a laptop from his backpack and it starts to whir as it turns on.  He opens a new document; he obviously hasn't started his paper either.  Unlike me, though, he starts to type efficiently right away.  I want to say something else but I don't want to break the air of concentration that has been created.  After thirty minutes pass, Adam lets out a little growl of frustration and deletes everything he's written.  I gape in horror and surprise.

            "It was all BS," he explains, seeing my expression.  "So how about we take a break?  Looks like neither of us actually have got anything done anyway."  It's true; my notebook is still blank except for a couple of scribbles and doodles in the margins.  Adam seems prepared for this meeting.  He pulls out a couple of sandwiches and bottles of water and sets it between us on the couch although technically we aren't supposed to eat in the library. 

            "How'd you know to pack all this?" I ask him.  He shrugs.

            "I figured I was going to stay in the library all night and I had a hunch that you'd be here."  I stare at him; I feel like an animal, blinking dumbly.

            "You're really smart, aren't you, Dwayne?" he says, softly.

            "What?"

            "You're not dumb.  Everyone thinks you are but you're really smart."  It's like everything that I've been angry about is resolved, spilling out as words from Adam's mouth.

            "What makes you say that," I say slowly. 

            "You're sharp.  You always get top marks.  You know to respect authority.  As I recall, you were the one that made Averman stop rude to Orion when we first met him." I vaguely remember hitting Averman when he started acting dumb.  Of course that gesture went unnoticed by any of the other Ducks, except I guess Adam.

            "You're not who everyone thinks you are.  What I don't get is why you let them believe it."

            "It's easier than trying to show them who I really am," I say honestly.  It feels so good sitting there with the sandwich in my hands, looking at Adam, him looking straight back, his blue eyes looking sympathetic and understanding.

            "But if it bothers you, why don't you change things?"

            "How did you know it bothers me?" I avoid his question by posing another one.

            "I could tell," he says, simply.  "You turn red, you get angry when Russ and Averman make jokes."

            "They think I can't hear them laugh together when I ask them to clarify things."

            "Why do you even bother asking then?"

            "Habit?  When I first came out of Texas I really _was_ confused," I say lamely.  It's only the half-truth though.  I keep asking Russ to clarify things because it's the only way I'd talk to any of the Ducks besides Adam.  It's my idea of a conversation starter but I guess it doesn't work well, or it works at my expense.  It gives me an excuse to talk and not be a wallflower. 

Talking to Adam makes me feel happier than I've ever been but ashamed at the same time.  He's sure of himself and quiet but people still like him.  People ignore me when I'm quiet.  I have to make noise to get noticed.  I say this.

            "I didn't know it was like this for you," he says.  He pats my shoulder and the action holds more friendliness and sympathy than I thought a simple gesture could convey.

            "I don't want to sound pathetic," I add, hastily.  "Sometimes I complain for no reason."

            "If you're unhappy, that's not complaining for no reason," Adam says.  He bites into his sandwich, reminding me of the neglected sandwich in my own hands.  It's peanut butter and honey and it coats my mouth with its sticky sweetness.  I wash it down with some cold water and Adam offers me some apple slices and I take some.  We don't talk much after that, just enjoying each other's company, eating and sitting quietly.

            Adam fell asleep next to me; his laptop is still buzzing somewhat indignantly it seems, for being neglected.  His chest moves up and down softly with each breath he takes.  He looks at peace.  I'm not too caught up in my own petty problems to overlook that Adam's looking troubled as well.  I wish I had a blanket with me when I see him shiver inadvertently.  Only after a moment's hesitation, I sit on the ground before him and wrap my arms around him and gingerly settle my head down on the sofa next to his.  My heart is being so fast and my breath comes so sharply and shortly that I wonder if I might asphyxiate in the night. 

            I barely trust myself to lift my hand and gently push a lock of blonde hair back.  I don't dare to do anything but look at him.  I realize that I'm not quite sure what I want, him or to _be _him.  I bet popular Adam has never felt lonely before.  Then I feel ashamed; I sound selfish and bitter even in my own mind.  It's no secret that Adam's dad can be hard on him and that he isolates himself a lot.  I'm isolated too.  My evil mind adds, _but I didn't choose to be._  I stand back up and take my seat beside him but I take off my sweatshirt and put it over him.  I finally pick up my notebook and start to write.

…………………………………

            Somewhere in the night, I must have fallen asleep too because the sun is shining in my face and Adam is gone.  My sweatshirt, neatly folded, is beside me.  I gather my hastily scrawled essay and start for class.

            As I walked through the quad, I heard footsteps behind me.  I turned around to see our Captain.

            "Up early today, Dwayne," he says, cheerily.

            "I'm usually up this early," I say off-handedly.  "But I was at the library overnight." 

            "Oh, hey you didn't happen to see Banksie, did you?  He told me he was going to the library but he never came back."  I look at Charlie and hear myself saying, "Nope, maybe we were on different floors."  I'm not quite sure why I lied.  Charlie frowns, concerned.

            "Where is he?  I told him I'd be back by eleven at the latest."  He's more musing to himself than talking to me.  I feel an unknown surge of anger at him.  _He's_ supposed to be Adam's best friend?  He doesn't deserve the position.

            "Maybe you should check the ice rinks, he's usually there in the morning," I say.

            "What?  Really?  Did he say so?"  Charlie doesn't wait for my answer and he runs off, saying good-bye over his shoulder.  What is so urgent for Charlie to tell Adam?  I'm burning with curiosity as I walk to class. 

            Adam's in class before me; he is talking politely with Ms. Young.  He looks up when I walk in and smile slightly.

            "Charlie was looking for you," I tell him.  Adam slightly rolls his eyes in irritation.

            "He doesn't own me, he doesn't need to know where I am every waking minute of the day."  I wonder if that requires an answer.

            "Maybe he had something important so say," I offer.  Adam doesn't seem to be listening, deep in his own thoughts.  His face clears and when he looks back at me, his face is carefully guarded against any emotions that I'm not allowed to see.  I recognize that look almost right away; he wears that expression as often as I have the smile that means nothing on mine.

            "Winter break is coming up," he says, in a neutral voice.

            "Yeah.  Going back to Texas.  It'll be nice to be home again," I say.  "What are your plans?"

            "Just hanging around here.  We might go to California.  My family I mean."

            "Maybe you can come by my house," I suggest, before I can stop myself. 

            "What?" he looks confused.  I may have an unrequited crush on him but it doesn't mean we're the best of friends.  I know my quiet feelings for him are unreturned but it's always a hard punch to my heart whenever I know he doesn't return it.

            "It was just a suggestion," I hastily add. 

            "No, no," he's shaking his head, looking at me really apologetically.  "I didn't mean that I didn't want to.  We've never been to your house before." I don't miss the "we."  He obviously doesn't want to come alone.

            "No, forget about it, it was just a suggestion."

            "No, Dwayne, I'll think about it, okay?"   He grabs my hand until I look at his earnest, sad face. I smile despite how I'm feeling.

            "Yeah, okay." 

…………………………………

            Winter break went by and, unsurprisingly, Adam didn't come over.  But he did call over break, just to see how I was doing, him and Charlie that is.  I think they were making calls to all the Ducks that didn't live in Minnesota. 

            /"Hey Dwayne!"  I smiled into the phone at the sound of the cheery voice.

            "Hi Adam." 

            "What's up?"  I frowned.  That wasn't Adam's voice.  "Hi…Charlie?"

            "Yeah, I'm at Adam's house right now.  Wish you were here, the rest of the Ducks are coming over later and so is Julie.  She's staying with Connie right now.  Can't wait until the next semester so all of us can unite again."

            "Yeah…sure."

            "You doing okay?"  That was Adam.

            "Yeah, just enjoying my home."  I could almost feel Adam frown in concern, his forehead gently crinkling. 

            "I'll see you guys later then."  I wanted the conversation to end.  Let him and Charlie have fun. /

            I stood there, reminiscing, somewhat bitterly, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned around to face Adam, as if he had solidified from my thoughts.

            "Hey there, roomie."  I'm surprised that I had forgotten.  Of course, the only thing that kept me going all winter break was knowing that we'd be rooming together.

            "Hey Adam."  He cocked his head slightly and I wondered why.  It was only after I had started following him down the hall into our room that I realized it was because I called him Adam.  No one does that, except the teachers at school.  We find out that somehow the Bash Brothers were paired together again and they were in the room next to ours.  We exchange a knowing look; their penchant for loud music to put them to sleep hadn't changed. 

            "It'll be a long time until June," Adam says, smiling slightly.    

            "Hey guys."  Two heads pop in and it's Guy and Charlie.  Charlie tackles Adam onto the bed and Adam pushes him off, with a slightly surprised expression on his face.  Guy just rolls his eyes and smiles privately as if he knows something that I don't.  It irritates me. 

            "Hey Guy," I finally say.  Adam and Charlie are still horsing around.  "So who are you rooming with?"

            "Charlie."  The conversation dies just like that.  I don't take it personally; Guy doesn't really talk to anyone that isn't Charlie or Connie.  We stand around awkwardly and I start to muse about how different silence is with different people.  With Adam, it's comforting and comfortable.  We take in each other's presence and enjoy it.  With most other people, it's uncomfortable and makes me feel inadequate, as though I should be a better conversationalist.  This is when I usually insert a dumb, stereotypical Dwayne comment and further solidify what everyone thinks about me.

            Finally, Adam and Charlie are done ignoring Guy and me, and flushed they sit down on Adam's bed and Guy and I, less comfortably, sit down on my bed.  I wanted to cross the few feet and sit down next to Adam but my feet stay rooted on the ground.

            "So you guys busy tonight?" Charlie goes, looking at Adam.  I stay silent, waiting for Adam to answer.

            "Sure, it's only the first day of the semester so no homework I guess," says Adam, but by his voice I can tell he's making fun of himself.  Charlie pushes him slightly and he smiles widely.

            "Okay cool, I got a TV for Christmas, finally, so we won't have to use you for yours, Cake-Eater," says Guy with a teasing smile.  I feel like an outsider but try to convince myself it's because they've known each other for a longer time than I have.  But I know it's not true.  Russ was welcomed with open arms and so was Julie.  Luis couldn't care less whether the Ducks liked him or not; he has his girlfriends.  But they all like him too.  Portman's absolutely inseparable from his other half Fulton and Kenny is absolutely adored by everyone, and that leaves me. 

            "Then it's the traditional _Dogma_?" Adam asks.  Charlie nods and I'm ready to excuse myself to go do something.  Despite what Adam says, maybe I _can_ find some homework to do.  Maybe I could go beg the teachers to give me work.  But before words leave my mouth, Adam turns to me.

            "So Dwayne, how about it?  Up for _Dogma_?"  I feel like it takes years for me to finally find my voice and say, "Yeah, definitely."

…………………………………

            I'm sitting, cramped, next Luis and Julie.  I know Adam is sitting behind me, above me on Charlie's bed with Charlie.  Guy and Connie and Averman are crowded on Guy's bed and the rest of us are happily (at least for everyone except me) cramped on the ground. 

            I watch Alan Rickman do his excellent performance as well as Matt Damon as Loki, joining in only half-heartedly on the laughing.  We're nearing the end of the movie when I realize that I'm not the only one that's not quite enjoying the movie.  I can feel tension behind me and I discreetly turn around and I find Adam and Charlie very, _very_ quietly arguing.  If I strained, I could just barely make out their words.

            "I don't understand why you had to make all your plans in one day," Adam was saying.  He sounded more disappointed than angry.

            "You know how Linda is.  I have to," Charlie answers, looking angry, maybe more at himself than at Adam.  Adam looks away and I see Charlie grab his arm, shaking his friend.

            "I'll be back at eleven at the latest," he says.

            "It doesn't matter, I'll go back to my room after the movie's over.  They'll just gossip for a while and I don't really have an interest in that.  You stay out as long as you want."  That voice made even me cringe and it wasn't even directed at me.

            "Don't say that," Charlie says.  "I promise I'll be back."  Adam shrugs.

            "Whatever.  You're going to be late," Adam says, motioning to the clock on the wall.  Charlie stands up.

            "Off to see Linda," he says, and the guys whistle. 

            "Score big, Charlie!" Luis says, obnoxiously, though he doesn't mean to be.  Luis takes his virtues, and virginity, very loosely, unlike the majority of the people on the team.  He's just very different from us.  Charlie leaves and the movie ends, and just like how Adam had predicted, the Ducks settle down to talk.  Adam looks small and lonely on the bed without his best friend.

            "So how are things with Scooter, Julie?" asks Connie, mischievously.  Julie screws up her face.

            "Mixed feelings I suppose.  He likes me well enough but the Ducks I'm not so sure."  She suddenly stops, as though she just realized that all the Ducks were in the room.  "But enough about me, let's play truth or dare."  I groan inwardly.  Why was everyone still stuck in the middle school mindset?  Out of habit, I looked over at Adam and he seemed to share opinion.

            "Sorry, but count me out," he says, getting up.  "Still have to get settled in."  I stand up almost immediately too.

            "Me too."  I can't decipher the expression on Adam's face, whether it's one of happiness in having some company, or annoyance in me interrupting his private time.  It's when we're outside in the hallway that I finally say, to the quiet, retreating back of Adam, "Is everything okay between you and Charlie?"  He stops and turns around. 

            "What?"

            "You guys just…seem to be having a rift or something."  Adam stares at me wonderingly, as though I just materialized out of nowhere.

            "God Dwayne."  His voice holds some emotion I can't quite put my finger on.  "Why doesn't anyone else see you the way I do?"  My heart skips at that.  He steps closer to me and reaches out.  He barely touches my sleeve and I almost fall over.

            "You…" His grip on my sleeve tightens and still looks at me in that astonished way.  "You're so much more than just a cowboy who's good with a lasso."  I chuckle but try to smother the sound, not wanting to break what was happening.

            "I want to thank you," Adam says.  "For understanding and seeing things that no one else can.  For not putting any pressure on me and listening and asking without burdening me."  I didn't even _realize_ I was doing any of these things.

            "Maybe now that we're rooming, we'll get to know each other better," he's saying.  I concentrate on his words, trying to permanently imprint them in my brain.

            "So…thanks." His voice is barely audible now.  I feel as though I could just lean forward and close the gap between our faces but I can't.  Adam gives me one more grateful, sad smile and starts back to our room.  After a moment, I follow him.

…………………………………

            We're lying in our respective beds that night but I know that he's not sleeping and I'm pretty sure he knows I'm not asleep either.  The Bash Brothers must still be in Charlie and Guy's room because there's no loud music.  I hear Adam sigh and turn around.

            "Dwayne, you heard me be completely honest with you.  Now you be honest with me.  What's bothering _you_?" 

            "Nothing."

            "I said to be honest."  I blow a sigh.

            "It's just lonely sometimes."  Adam lets me try to come up with something else but I'm drawing a blank on how to explain what I'm feeling.

            "Lonely how?"

            "The Ducks."

            "They don't seem to accept you as much," says Adam slowly

            "Yeah, something like that."

            "There's life outside the Ducks you know," he says.  "You can always make other friends, or be like Luis and get a new girlfriend each week."  I chuckle, albeit sadly.

            "But I want the Ducks, no one else."  What I really meant was him, but I couldn't very well say that out loud now, could I?  

            "They don't know me very well, but I guess I haven't given them much of a way to really get to know me," I admit.  "I mean did you know that my favorite book was _Paradise Lost_?"

            "I thought it was _Brave New World_," Adam says.  I can feel his smile in his words.  "I knew it wasn't a Dr. Seuss book though."

            "But no one else knows that," I say. 

            "I know."  We turn silent again.  My eyes are almost completely used to the dark now and I can make out Adam, lying on his side, watching me with careful eyes.

            "So what do you think you'll do about it?"

            "About what?" I say.

            "This identity crisis you're having," he answers, with a wry smile.  I shrug then realize Adam might not have seen it.

            "I guess I don't know.  Sometimes I don't mind, it's safer when people don't know me."

            "It might be…but just be sure to let the right people know who you are."  I think for a second.

            "I already have."  That makes Adam smiles and turns back around.

            "Goodnight Dwayne." 

            "Goodnight."

…………………………………

It's about a week later and it's already dark when I get out of the library and start walking back to my dorm.  When I walk into the room, Guy's there with a suitcase, looking suitably confused himself.

"Hey…Guy?" He looks over at me.

"Oh hey, Dwayne.  I think, well I'm not sure yet, but I think I might be switching rooms with Adam."

"What do you mean you're not sure yet?"

"I'm not sure."

"Why are you guys switching rooms all of a sudden?"  Guy shrugs.

"I think Charlie was able to pull some strings to get Adam back in his room or something.  I told him I didn't have a problem with it so he went ahead and got the room arrangements changed."  My heart's thumping dully in my chest.  Why does it seem like no one ever asks me _my_ opinion.  Oh yeah, it's because I'm just Dwayne, the dumb cowboy.  I leave the room; my bitterness leaves a strange acidic taste in the back of my mouth.  Guy doesn't even question as I leave suddenly. 

I'm walking around aimlessly outside.  My feet lead me towards the quad where I finally lay down on the slightly damp grass.  I stare up into the moon and feel calmer.  I breathe a sigh.  The night looks nice; nothing really special, just nice.  Calming maybe.  So what if Charlie wants his best friend to room with him?  I recall with some perverse pleasure that Charlie would have failed precalculus last semester if Adam hadn't stayed up many countless nights with him to help him study.  So Charlie wouldn't be in any Adam and my classes.  I could still talk to him then. 

The night was feeling cruel, however.  And right when I had convinced myself that I was okay with the sudden change of the room arrangements, that I really _was_ okay, I hear familiar voices.  I scoot further back underneath the cherry tree, away from view.  I hear footsteps approaching and arguing voices.  The night really _was_ feeling cruel; the voices belonged to Charlie and Adam.

"I said I was sorry, Banksie."  _Adam_, I think to myself.  _His name is Adam_.

"That's the problem, Charlie, you never _do_ anything; you just say you'll do something or that you're sorry."

"You're my best friend." 

"I know that."

"Then why won't you move in with me?"

"I never said I didn't want to."

"But you're reluctant.  Tell me why." When Adam doesn't say anything, Charlie says, in a teasing voice, "Suddenly fall in love with Dwayne, Adam?"  I cringe in the shadows.

"No I didn't," he says indignantly and I feel the familiar sear through my heart and nausea.  Adam starts to say something else but his voice is cut off and muffled; somehow I know it's because Charlie has stopped him.  I dare myself to lean out a little from the shadows and I see Charlie and Adam, standing in the moonlight.  Charlie is grasping Adam's shoulders, kissing him.  I'm absolutely shocked.  I don't know what surprises me more, that Adam and Charlie might be like me, or that they are, in some way, together. 

I watch as Adam pushes Charlie away and takes a step back.

"Did you do that to Linda too?  Do you tell Linda that you love her just like how you tell me the same thing?  You're being unfair to both of us, Charlie.  I don't know what to believe anymore.  I don't know whether to believe anything you say."  Now I know why Adam doesn't want to move in with Charlie.

"But people would talk, Linda stops that…" Charlie is saying pathetically.  I snarl very quietly.  Coward.

"Coward," Adam says softly.

"What do you want me to do?" Charlie says, exasperated.

"Stop this charade.  You have to choose, Charlie, Linda or me.  I don't care if you choose Linda as long as you stop leading both of us on."  Charlie is quiet.  I feel the nervousness radiating from Adam, although he's concealed it well. Charlie is looking down but when he looks up, his eyes hold a new fire.

"I choose you, really.  There's no competition."  Adam looks like he's scared to be hopeful.

"Do you really mean that this time Charlie?"

"Yes.  I don't want to lose you and if I stay with Linda I will.  I'm going now; I'm going to do it_ right now_.  I'll do that and you meet me in our room okay?"  Adam's smiling now, smiling so wide that his teeth glint white in the night.

"Yeah okay."

"I love you Adam, really."

"I know.  Me too." Despite the fact that my heart is splintering, I still have to smile at how Adam puts his words in the least poetic manner.  I don't watch when I know that Charlie leans in to kiss Adam again.  Then he's gone, running to break up with Linda I guess.  And live happily ever after with Adam.  Adam doesn't walk away though.  He stands there, staring at the sky, lost in his thoughts. 

"Hi Dwayne."  I jump.  He knew I was there?  I climb out of the shadows sheepishly. 

"Hi…you knew I was there?"

"Not at first," he admits.  "But I heard a noise and saw your profile I guess.  I could tell."  Adam sits down on the grass and lies down, still staring at the sky.  I lie down next to him. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" I finally say.  It's hard to get the words out.  

"It's my life, it was personal," Adam says.  "But I think I was going to.  Maybe if things didn't get resolved between Charlie and me just now I would have."

"How do you know that I wouldn't have been a homophobe?"

"Because the Dwayne I know is educated and fair," he says.  I love how simply he says everything, as though it's the truth.  I'm starting to hope that it is the truth and not because maybe he knows I love him, or like very much at least.  I hope he doesn't know.

"I'm sorry Dwayne."  Shoot, I guess he does know.

"You don't have to say you're sorry," I mumble.  I want to look at him but I can't.

"If it's any consolation, Dwayne, I think I would have liked you very much." Now I do look at him and his face is lighter, less troubled, and teasing. 

"What?"

"You know what I mean."  He punches my arm softly.  "Don't fish for compliments."

"Why'd you stay with him even when he was going out with Linda?" I can't help asking.  I feel evil for trying to sabotage their relationship.  I try to tell myself I'm not, that all I am is very curious.  Adam looks thoughtful as usual.

"Look, it's hard to explain, but you like who you like regardless of a lot of things.  I guess for me it was regardless of Linda.  He's hot-tempered and cocky and a lot of other things that other people wouldn't like but that's all the things that I like about him.  Does that make any sense?"  Not really, everything I like about Adam seems to be what Charlie likes about him too.

   "How long have you known…about yourself?" I say.  Adam is picking at the grass.

"I don't see it as one or the other.  You like who you like and I like Charlie.  He just happens to be a guy I guess."  I nod; that seems wise.  In that case, I probably did like Connie for a while.  I'm just confused.  We lapse into our familiar silence again even though for once I'm dying to talk, anything to get rid of the sensation that my heart was shattering and all the gritty pieces were lodged in my throat and piercing my stomach.

"Why would you always talk to me?" I ask him.  "No one else in the Ducks bothered but you always made sure to at least say hi."  Adam has his pensive expression.

"Because I know what it feels like to be lonely.  And alone."  Before I can even begin to say to myself that I highly doubt that he _really _does, Adam questions me, "Did you know what it was like before you joined the team?"  I admitted I didn't.  I knew that the original Ducks had been together for at least two years as the Ducks and even longer since they had all lived in the same area.  But that's all I did know.

"I wasn't always a Duck.  At first I was a Hawk."  I didn't understand and Adam grinned wryly. 

"The Hawks were like the Varsity team.  Something like that, but on the Peewee level.  Ducks were the underdogs and Hawks were the evil champions I guess, and I sat high and mighty on the throne of the Hawks."  I keep quiet; this is all very new to me.

"Then it turns out they redrew the district lines that year.  I was supposed to be a Duck, not a Hawk.  I only wanted to play hockey at the time so I joined the Ducks anyway.  I was stupid; I figured all the things that I had done, and every insult that my team had said to the Ducks, would be forgotten.  But I know that you know, Dwayne, acceptance doesn't come that easily.  It's the loneliest feeling in the world, walking into a locker room when you know everyone there really hates you.  In their defense, they did have good reason to I guess."  I guess that puts things into perspective.  At least no one on the Ducks actually hates me. 

"The only person who even bothered to try and say hello was Charlie.  But he got shot down by Jesse.  I guess things changed but I won't forget that."  I nod. 

"Sometimes you isolate yourself," I say.  It seems vaguely related to what Adam just told me but I suppose it really wasn't. 

"I guess I am kind of antisocial," he says, with a shrug.  "But it doesn't bother me.  I'd rather have a few close friends than surround myself with a lot of fake ones."  I feel as though there is a sense of closure at this point.  Adam has basically told me everything about him and he deciphered basically everything about me.  I feel as though we might have finally run out of things to talk about.  Our conversations, though they may have seemed like a few to others, held a degree of intimacy that I'm not sure either of us would try and explore with others; even the silences held meaning and secrets.  Now I figure he wants to go and pack up his stuff and move in with Charlie.  I think this with a bit of bitterness but Adam starts talking again.

"I never was good at finding constellations but I like to make ones up myself."  He points to a formation of stars to our left.  "That looks a lot like a heart doesn't it."  I look towards where his finger is pointing.  I can see why he'd say it's a heart.  But I can see that line of stars leading right into the center of it.

"A pierced heart maybe?" I say until I realize something.  You learn it in Literature.  It's called symbolism.  Or you learn about it in psychology where it's done with inkblots.  You see what you feel. 

"Oh Dwayne."  Adam rolls over, closer to me, and hugs me.  "I really am sorry."

"How long have you know that I…"

"I don't know, for a while.  I guess tonight was a bit of a shocker huh?"

"Yeah."  I try to keep my tears from soaking into his shirt.  I knew exactly when I started to like him.  I had come to visit the Ducks in Minnesota and it was summer so the lake was obviously not frozen.  We were swimming and I realized how graceful Adam was and I guess the rest really is history. 

"Well I didn't mean for you to find out this way." For some reason, I know at that moment that I don't have a chance and I never will have a chance.  I shouldn't be lying here with Adam's arms around me; I don't deserve it.  So I pull away and sit up, tasting metal in my mouth. 

"I really do have to move in with Charlie.  I love him too much to lose him over a petty fight like the one that would be caused by me not moving into his room."  I look away.  I really can't look at Adam anymore, his perfect features washed in the moonlight, his hair turned silver.

"But you're probably my best friend.  You know me better than anyone else probably.  You understand me better than anyone I've ever met.  Even Charlie.  And I'm honest."  When I look at him, I know he is being honest.  I sit back down. 

"Yeah?  You too.  For me I mean.  I don't have very many friends on the team," I confess again.

"You hang out with me and Charlie and Guy then.  Guy knows about us too.  Just you and him know so far I guess."  So I guess that annoying, knowing smile of Guy's really was authentic. 

"Guy's good and loyal.  I know it seems like he doesn't really talk to anyone but he's fun.  He's steady and I bet you guys will be good friends soon."  I highly doubt that but I don't want to tell that to Adam.

"Don't doubt me until you have reason to," Adam says, with a teasing light in his eyes.

"You really read my mind sometimes," I say, chuckling.  "It's like I can't think anything."

"Say everything you mean to," Adam says, seriously.  "Be yourself and don't put up any personas." 

"I will."  And I mean it.  I'm ready for change.  I'm ready for the Ducks to finally accept me as something more than the punch line of their jokes.  I'm sick of waiting for everyone else to make the first move.  I'm ready to do it first and I guess I'm ready for them to really see who I am.  That cowboy is a part of me and always will be, but there's more to me than lassoing and hockey.  It's time they knew that.

"Thanks Adam," I say, and he pats my shoulder and stands up. 

"I should start packing."  He looks at me sympathetically but I make sure he knows I don't need it, not anymore. 

"I'll see you around," I say.  He smiles.  Still, despite how much better I'm feeling, I can't help that little pang as I watch him walk away from me.  He's always walking away from me.  But he knew that I liked him.  He knew and he didn't care.  Hell, he told me he would have liked me too if he wasn't with Charlie.  I can live with that.  I look back up to that heart and follow that line that goes through it.  I follow the line of stars; they make a little squiggle, and then back around again, making a big loop.  I smile privately to myself when I realize the shape: a cowboy hat.

…………………………………

I stand up to brush myself off and start walking in the direction that Adam had gone.  For once I'm not going after him.  I'm thinking, thinking harder and more clearly than I have in a long time.  I'm ready, for real.  I'm ready enough to plaster a smile on my face, a real one, and although it may be slightly sad, it's still authentic.  I'm ready to walk down the hallway to my dorm and find Guy there, putting away his stuff neatly.  I'm ready for his smile and I'm ready to tell him hi.  I guess I'm even ready to hang out with Charlie and Adam, seeing them hold hands or plant affectionate kisses on each other, knowing Guy and I don't care.  It hurts, sure, but I'll deal.  And I'm definitely ready to be someone more than a caricature of a cowboy.  

…………………………………

"Hey Dwayne, come on, we're going to be late," Guy urges.  It's been about a month since Adam moved to Charlie's room and I'm too slow putting on my sneakers I guess. 

"Where's your cowboy boots?" he says, but I know it's not the derisive teasing that used to be aimed towards me.  It's a friendly, "between you and me" thing.  I know because he chewed out Averman for saying I was a dumb cowboy the other day.  Adam was right about Guy, go figure. 

"Guess I lost 'em out on the ranch," I say, with the same mock serious voice.  We can hear Charlie yelling at us to get a move on and Guy and I start to scoot through the door.  Things have been changing.  I've been speaking up, saying what I mean.   The Ducks just seem more welcoming.  Julie's asked me to study with her regularly every Tuesday and Thursday evenings and I've taken to skating in the morning early with Adam now.  We enter class together, instead of individually.  We spend the time before class talking; sometimes Julie or Kenny, and most often Charlie, join us on the rink.  The teacher no longer looks at me with her dark looks of confused pity.

We're sitting in the darkened movie theater.  Adam sits on my right, Charlie next to him.  I know enough not to look over; they deserve some privacy.  But Guy is laughing hysterically on my left, trying to toss individual popcorn pieces on some woman's hair that is defying gravity.  After a moment, I take a shot and it lands ever so gently right at the top of her beehive.

"All right!" Guy exclaims and high-fives me.  I settle back with a genuine smile that I'm getting more used to and I realize something that warms my aching heart, my stomach, all the way down to my toes and to the tips of my ears.  I'm happy.

**End**       


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